A funny thing happened the other day. It wasn't funny in the way that makes you laugh, but funny in the way that makes you think about things you didn't really before. A group of ten guys had gotten together to play poker, mostly English teachers, with our friend Jeff/Hyun Joon who's Korean, there as well. (His name is Hyun Joon, but he will often go by Jeff, as English speakers have trouble with his Korean name). During the course of the game, everyone was having some drinks, talking about the latest happenings at their school (most of which involved something unusual or challenging for them), "shooting the breeze" would be a good expression for it. One of the guys, during a rather animated tirade finished his comments with "I hate all Koreans". And suddenly he and everyone else remembered that Hyun Joon was sitting in the room playing with us.
Hyun Joon and I left pretty soon after (we were both out of the game quite early), and on our walk to meet the other friends who were out that night, he was noticeably upset by the comment. During our walk, I didn't know whether to try and justify it or condemn it, but I realized that little things like that happen all the time with English teachers here, though usually they're a little more subtle and not mentioned in front of any Koreans. Of course, no one hates all Koreans, at least not any of the people I would consider friends of mine. Occasionally there will be someone who will arouse enough ire within you to be able to honestly say you dislike them (maybe even hate them), but it's no more common here than it is with people you meet at home. Yet every time something unexpected and/or unpleasant happens, it so much easier to generalize the whole country as being that way. "They washed the floor with kerosene today - silly Koreans." "My school doesn't want me leaving the country for my days off - what are the Koreans thinking?" "I heard a girl got attacked by a Korean a few nights ago..." Well, this stuff happens at home too, but you never say to anyone, "Geez, Canadians are complete idiots, I can't stand them."
For most people here, I think it comes down to their inability to relate to anyone local. Language barriers are huge, and even when someone is fluent in English, it's still a challenge to really understand what kind of person they are and see the softer, underlying differences that make them an individual rather than another piece of the mass Korean collective. I've only met one person so far from Korea who has the fluency to communicate clearly and accurately everything she wants to say, and I'm amazed at how differently I see her compared to the rest of the people I meet here.
So does this make us all racists? For some English teachers here, their only interactions with Korean people are at their school, and maybe a little with the store workers they see and do business with. That's a very limited array of people to judge a culture on, but if that's all you have, and none of them are very nice to you, what do you do? If for 12 months your school treats you terribly, and you never really meet any other Koreans outside your job, it's tough to keep a positive attitude towards the rest of the country. On the other hand, it's way to common to see teachers here label the entire country as ignorant and incompetent when a single person lets them down (and probably only due to some error in communication).
Living at home in Canada, I remember seeing all social events for every possible ethnic group you could imagine - parties, study groups, political advocacy groups, even just drinking buddies. I didn't think much of it then, but I understand a lot more now why there was that tighter bond between all these people from another country living in a foreign land, and I can almost guarantee they suffer the same weirdness with Canadian culture and rant about "stupid" or "silly" Canadian people. So does that make them racists? When the incident at poker first happened, I wanted Hyun Joon to understand and feel better about what had just gone on, but I think now that I shouldn't have tried at all to play down the situation. To say "I hate Koreans" in any context or environment is poor way to express what you're feeling, and is not the way anyone should treat a person, a country or the people in it, and I hope to set a better example than that the next time I'm out with Canadians or Koreans.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Wednesday Pre-Blog
I'm splitting this week's entry up into two parts, as there's lots of random tidbits I want to get down here. Today should be relatively short, the next entry may be a little long though.
My school has undertaken new steps towards keeping the building clean - they've now started cleaning the floors with kerosene. As far as I know, this is a practice not done in any country outside of Korea, and possibly not anywhere outside of my school, and at first I thought it had to have been a janitorial screw up. But no, three times now they've broken out the kerosene, slopped it on the mops, and scrubbed down the school floors. Not only does this make our school a tinder-box-lawsuit waiting to happen, but it makes the floors slick as could be. When freshly cleaned, I can "skate" to my classroom. Kids are running and bailing all through the hallways, getting flammable liquid all over the clothes, turning them into tiny, mobile combustibles just waiting for a spark. And if that wasn't enough, it leaves the whole school smelling like a leaky gas station; the floors, however, do look nice and shiny.
Just today I was helping two of my favourite teachers judge students' English skills to attend an out-of-town English camp. Despite how much I like these teachers, I still end up at a loss sometimes for how they perceive the world compared to me. Students were judged as much for their class behaviour and personality as they were their English skills. The only student who was able to answer questions in full sentences was not considered to be a good choice to attend the camp (he's a nice kid, just a little reclusive). And the one kid they did choose was given big bonus points for being shy, since he was Rh+0.
What? Rh+O? The teacher wrote it out for me, and explained to me his "blood type" didn't let him speak as well in public as others, so he should get a second chance. He's a nice kid who I'd love to see do well, but wow, if blood type can double your English score, I wonder how it helps with your university entrance exams...
Anyway, it's time to jet now. I'm teaching the teachers English this afternoon, which is not without its own hiccups. 2 minutes before class started, my principal told me that the English textbooks he ordered did not arrive, and I would need to make up lesson materials for today. Of course, this wasn't a problem, since he never told me there was an English book coming anyway, so I lucked out and just happened to be ready. Sheesh, if I'm not able to understand most of what's going on with my Korean teachers, I wonder what they think is going on in my brain?
My school has undertaken new steps towards keeping the building clean - they've now started cleaning the floors with kerosene. As far as I know, this is a practice not done in any country outside of Korea, and possibly not anywhere outside of my school, and at first I thought it had to have been a janitorial screw up. But no, three times now they've broken out the kerosene, slopped it on the mops, and scrubbed down the school floors. Not only does this make our school a tinder-box-lawsuit waiting to happen, but it makes the floors slick as could be. When freshly cleaned, I can "skate" to my classroom. Kids are running and bailing all through the hallways, getting flammable liquid all over the clothes, turning them into tiny, mobile combustibles just waiting for a spark. And if that wasn't enough, it leaves the whole school smelling like a leaky gas station; the floors, however, do look nice and shiny.
Just today I was helping two of my favourite teachers judge students' English skills to attend an out-of-town English camp. Despite how much I like these teachers, I still end up at a loss sometimes for how they perceive the world compared to me. Students were judged as much for their class behaviour and personality as they were their English skills. The only student who was able to answer questions in full sentences was not considered to be a good choice to attend the camp (he's a nice kid, just a little reclusive). And the one kid they did choose was given big bonus points for being shy, since he was Rh+0.
What? Rh+O? The teacher wrote it out for me, and explained to me his "blood type" didn't let him speak as well in public as others, so he should get a second chance. He's a nice kid who I'd love to see do well, but wow, if blood type can double your English score, I wonder how it helps with your university entrance exams...
Anyway, it's time to jet now. I'm teaching the teachers English this afternoon, which is not without its own hiccups. 2 minutes before class started, my principal told me that the English textbooks he ordered did not arrive, and I would need to make up lesson materials for today. Of course, this wasn't a problem, since he never told me there was an English book coming anyway, so I lucked out and just happened to be ready. Sheesh, if I'm not able to understand most of what's going on with my Korean teachers, I wonder what they think is going on in my brain?
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Fan Death
Fan Death, a freakish urban legend living solely here in Korea, is the subject of today's blog. If you've never heard of fan death, you may have trouble believing that Korean's say this exists, and if you've already heard of fan death, at least this will give you another chance for a good laugh. Either way, there's no arguing that fan death is one of the best and stupidest ideas that's ever come out of any country.
The idea behind fan death is that a regular household fan is not only capable of killing a person (generally while they're sleeping), but that serious precautions should be taken when operating a fan in your house. The concern over fan death has grown so large that many fans now come with warning labels to prevent accidental death-by-fan, timer switches have been installed to prevent injury, and many Korean experts have weighed in with their opinions on how fan death occurs and can be prevented. When talking with my Korean friends and acquaintances, they've all said to me "yes, fan death is possible" though they will say not very likely. So how in blue blazes can one of these rogue fans going about killing a person? Here's the list I got from wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fan_death)
The Vortex - allowing a fan to run can create a vortex within your room, causing a vacuum effect on all the oxygen in the room.
Oxygen Consumption - a fan left running will burn oxygen, leaving carbon dioxide levels dangerously high.
Suffocation - the high speed air coming from the fan can prevent a sleeping person from being able to breathe properly.
Oxygen Chopping - the fan blades "chop" up the oxygen in the room, making it no longer breathable.
Hypothermia - sleeping under a fan will cause your body to get hypothermia.
At first glance and without any rational thought, it may seem that "hey, maybe some of these are possible, like the hypothermia one". If you're thinking this, please, take a moment and reconsider it. A fan doesn't have any part of it that burns oxygen, we've all stuck our faces out a car window and could breathe (skydivers seem to always survive too), the idea that fan's can "chop" up oxygen is hilarious, and if you get hypothermia while sleeping, the minimal amount of body heat being blown away by the fan probably wasn't what finally did you in.
http://www.fandeath.net
All this happened back in the late 90's, and I don't know if there's been any recent articles on it, I'll have to do some more digging. In the meantime, be sure to leave your doors open if you're running a fan at night!
As a quick addendum to this blog, my wallet just got stolen by one of the kids at school. I only found out this morning, though I've already got it back through some intense school wide guilt tripping and putting pressure on the right sources, though all the money in it is long gone ($40-$50). It sucks though, cause it was one of those cute little kids who always wants to be picked up and hang out with me that took it. He comes from a crappy family though, and I think the temptation of money was just too much for him to pass up. I feel bad for the kid, but I think the days of me giving him airplane rides are all over.
The idea behind fan death is that a regular household fan is not only capable of killing a person (generally while they're sleeping), but that serious precautions should be taken when operating a fan in your house. The concern over fan death has grown so large that many fans now come with warning labels to prevent accidental death-by-fan, timer switches have been installed to prevent injury, and many Korean experts have weighed in with their opinions on how fan death occurs and can be prevented. When talking with my Korean friends and acquaintances, they've all said to me "yes, fan death is possible" though they will say not very likely. So how in blue blazes can one of these rogue fans going about killing a person? Here's the list I got from wikipedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fan_death)
The Vortex - allowing a fan to run can create a vortex within your room, causing a vacuum effect on all the oxygen in the room.
Oxygen Consumption - a fan left running will burn oxygen, leaving carbon dioxide levels dangerously high.
Suffocation - the high speed air coming from the fan can prevent a sleeping person from being able to breathe properly.
Oxygen Chopping - the fan blades "chop" up the oxygen in the room, making it no longer breathable.
Hypothermia - sleeping under a fan will cause your body to get hypothermia.
At first glance and without any rational thought, it may seem that "hey, maybe some of these are possible, like the hypothermia one". If you're thinking this, please, take a moment and reconsider it. A fan doesn't have any part of it that burns oxygen, we've all stuck our faces out a car window and could breathe (skydivers seem to always survive too), the idea that fan's can "chop" up oxygen is hilarious, and if you get hypothermia while sleeping, the minimal amount of body heat being blown away by the fan probably wasn't what finally did you in.
http://www.fandeath.net
All this happened back in the late 90's, and I don't know if there's been any recent articles on it, I'll have to do some more digging. In the meantime, be sure to leave your doors open if you're running a fan at night!
As a quick addendum to this blog, my wallet just got stolen by one of the kids at school. I only found out this morning, though I've already got it back through some intense school wide guilt tripping and putting pressure on the right sources, though all the money in it is long gone ($40-$50). It sucks though, cause it was one of those cute little kids who always wants to be picked up and hang out with me that took it. He comes from a crappy family though, and I think the temptation of money was just too much for him to pass up. I feel bad for the kid, but I think the days of me giving him airplane rides are all over.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Priorities
When an emergency arises, perhaps one that requires medical attention, an ambulance is generally going to be the first vehicle you'd like to be transported in. Now, maybe a few people would rather be rushed to the hospital in an F1 race car, or something of that sort, but the point is, an ambulance, or any emergency vehicle, should probably have full rights when it comes to using the road. In Korea, that's not quite the case.
The first time I witnessed a car accident here in Korea (the first few times actually), it was as it happened, and I was usually driving away and couldn't stay and watch. When I finally saw one happen while I was walking, I had enough time to witness the order of things unfolding. Within 30 seconds of the accident taking place, a tow-truck was on the scene. With its siren wailing, lights flashing, it took up position in the middle of the intersection and started sorting the mess out. The next vehicle on the scene: another tow-truck. Soon a third whizzed by, only to find no work left for it, and it moseyed off. In the end, three tow-trucks came, and no ambulances or police cars at all. If there were any injuries on the scene, the persons needing medical attention would certainly have been better off going with the tow-trucks anyway. These trucks are larger, have brighter lights, louder horns, and as far as I can tell show total disregard for traffic laws, pedestrians and other vehicles. They're kings of the road here in Korea, and no puny police vehicle or ambulance seems to wish to show them otherwise.
I'm not sure the logic for the tow-truck issue, and perhaps I've over estimated their traffic dominance, but there is definitely a different set of rules for what's important here in Korea, and language barriers, cultural differences and my lacking a Korean Priorities Rulebook has caused lots of confusion and laughter.
School pictures have been especially bizarre. My picture, taken for our teacher board at the front door, didn't come out right at all, with my whole body being squished and flattened just enough so that I resemble a chunky pancake. Now, this may have been an accident, but out of the 4 pictures that were taken of me, why choose that one?
Shannon had her photo taken a while back, and while nothing too discernible showed up, she just looked "wrong" in it, like someone had tried to make her look nicer in it, but failed. Then another friend had his face "Korean-ised" as he put it. Somehow he looked just a little more Asian in the picture than he should have. I was still a little skeptical, until finally one of our friends with a beard had his school photo taken. When he got the pictures back, his beard was gone (and possibly some other alterations were made, we weren't sure). Now, whenever I walk by photo shops, I notice their advertisements at fixing pictures, making people look nicer, and even changing the clothes people are wearing. They go to all this effort to have these great, beautiful looking photos, and yet, no one ever, ever smiles in them.
The list of things that amuse and puzzle me here seems to go on forever, and I'm sure I'll find some great, interesting and ludicrous things to write about in future blogs. I do, however, feel it's time I brought up some of the more positive things about my Korean co-teachers and the other Koreans I've met. It's easy to mock and ridicule people here, and doing so would give an unfair impression of the time I'm having here. I really am enjoying Korea, and I've met some great people, but it's the quirky, funky stuff that always sticks out in my mind. I could have a week of nothing but great noodle and vegetable dishes for lunch, but the only thing I fine worth mentioning is the time I was served fermented manta ray and deep fried fish heads.
Oh, and I almost forgot - I had my first trip to the dentist. I walked in, waited for 20 minutes, got an X-ray and had a quick checkup, and all it cost me was $4. Wild. They had TV's at every dentist chair (so strange, but still nice) and the dentist even spoke good English. Her main concern though - whether my teeth look nice enough for me or not.
The first time I witnessed a car accident here in Korea (the first few times actually), it was as it happened, and I was usually driving away and couldn't stay and watch. When I finally saw one happen while I was walking, I had enough time to witness the order of things unfolding. Within 30 seconds of the accident taking place, a tow-truck was on the scene. With its siren wailing, lights flashing, it took up position in the middle of the intersection and started sorting the mess out. The next vehicle on the scene: another tow-truck. Soon a third whizzed by, only to find no work left for it, and it moseyed off. In the end, three tow-trucks came, and no ambulances or police cars at all. If there were any injuries on the scene, the persons needing medical attention would certainly have been better off going with the tow-trucks anyway. These trucks are larger, have brighter lights, louder horns, and as far as I can tell show total disregard for traffic laws, pedestrians and other vehicles. They're kings of the road here in Korea, and no puny police vehicle or ambulance seems to wish to show them otherwise.
I'm not sure the logic for the tow-truck issue, and perhaps I've over estimated their traffic dominance, but there is definitely a different set of rules for what's important here in Korea, and language barriers, cultural differences and my lacking a Korean Priorities Rulebook has caused lots of confusion and laughter.
School pictures have been especially bizarre. My picture, taken for our teacher board at the front door, didn't come out right at all, with my whole body being squished and flattened just enough so that I resemble a chunky pancake. Now, this may have been an accident, but out of the 4 pictures that were taken of me, why choose that one?
Shannon had her photo taken a while back, and while nothing too discernible showed up, she just looked "wrong" in it, like someone had tried to make her look nicer in it, but failed. Then another friend had his face "Korean-ised" as he put it. Somehow he looked just a little more Asian in the picture than he should have. I was still a little skeptical, until finally one of our friends with a beard had his school photo taken. When he got the pictures back, his beard was gone (and possibly some other alterations were made, we weren't sure). Now, whenever I walk by photo shops, I notice their advertisements at fixing pictures, making people look nicer, and even changing the clothes people are wearing. They go to all this effort to have these great, beautiful looking photos, and yet, no one ever, ever smiles in them.
The list of things that amuse and puzzle me here seems to go on forever, and I'm sure I'll find some great, interesting and ludicrous things to write about in future blogs. I do, however, feel it's time I brought up some of the more positive things about my Korean co-teachers and the other Koreans I've met. It's easy to mock and ridicule people here, and doing so would give an unfair impression of the time I'm having here. I really am enjoying Korea, and I've met some great people, but it's the quirky, funky stuff that always sticks out in my mind. I could have a week of nothing but great noodle and vegetable dishes for lunch, but the only thing I fine worth mentioning is the time I was served fermented manta ray and deep fried fish heads.
Oh, and I almost forgot - I had my first trip to the dentist. I walked in, waited for 20 minutes, got an X-ray and had a quick checkup, and all it cost me was $4. Wild. They had TV's at every dentist chair (so strange, but still nice) and the dentist even spoke good English. Her main concern though - whether my teeth look nice enough for me or not.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
High Fives, Bobble-Heads, and The Janitor
Earlier in my blogging, I mentioned something about how Korea is a country just catching up with the Western, or at least more developed, world. It couldn't have felt more true today. As I rolled into class, I spent the first 25 minutes this morning sorting out the ol' kerosene heater, pumping oil into it with the little hand pump, finding a new bucket of oil to keep my classroom warm when the one I have runs out, and basically working in a classroom one step removed from a one-room school house with a wood stove to keep things warm.
It's suddenly cold here again this week, which is nothing compared to what it's like in Canada, but after a week of +15, it was a little shocking to find snow and ice on the ground the last few days. And before that, we had a long, intense rain storm. It rained so much, our roof overflowed into the stairwell, and a small river of water was pouring down 5 flights of stairs to the bottom floor. It was kinda cool, but the Koreans seemed a little nervous, and went on full attack with their mops and buckets. Us Canadians of course, well that seemed like a great day to play hockey, and so we did. We just finished building a new net out of PVC piping and the mesh from a discarded mattress box-spring, so nothing was going to stop us from trying it out.
Speaking of sports, the new volleyball season is underway at school again. It's tough calling it a season, cause nothing really happens to advance the state of our game or standings, etc. But, you can't miss a game, and so twice this week we've played. It's not really that bad, I don't despise volleyball like I did in high school, but there is this new teacher in the school who makes me want to put socks in my ears, or maybe his mouth. Every single point, no matter what happens, he's giving someone tips on what to do, and since I'm in the "hitting position" (someone please correct me and tell me what that spot is called) he's always, ALWAYS, telling me to do something different. It's too bad, that A) the guy is a terrible volleyball player, and B) doesn't speak a lick of English. The one way he can communicate, is by giving high-fives. Which, oh my, is more of a challenge than playing volleyball will ever be.
Giving my co-teachers a high-five is like something between french-kissing an oyster, and crawling through a prickle patch. Usually, high-fives are down around chest height, so it's awkward to begin with. Then, instead of using your hand to try and make contact, creating that "Right on!" kinda feeling, everyone just kind of walks into it, usually doing a bit of a bend at the hips. If you're scratching your head asking yourself how the hell that works, don't worry about it, cause it doesn't work. But it gets worse. Some teachers, usually the short men, will try and go down low, but they never hold their hands out. Instead they keep their elbows in, and hands only half-supinated so that any attempt to give a low-five is more of a hand smacking. And every single time you try to give a gentle, not hard but making contact kind of -five, they grab your hands, interlock fingers, and just shake your hands weirdly for a second. Oh my, it is bizarre.
Quick interlude - Shannon, who was just in China got some good photos while she was there. I missed out on it all, but I really like this shot of the great wall. Here's the section of it that she walked.
On another brief subject, I've found that one of my teachers looks incredibly like a bobble-head. Korean's generally have, well, larger than average heads. Or at least, larger-than-a-aNorth-American-head heads. This one teacher, I Uen Chin, is a rather petite lady, and so her behemoth cranium becomes almost comical on her. At times it looks like it's weighing her down into a bit of a slouch, and I'm afraid that if someone were to ever pick her up and shake her even gently, her head would wobble around uncontrollably. It seems most schools in Korea have a teacher who gives off a bobble-head vibe, as I've had this conversation now with a number of North Americans here, and we all seem to notice it.
My school had a "welcome back" dinner the other night, and like all dinners with my school, it was a generally good time, filled with food I refused to eat, soju they wanted me to drink, and noraebong (Korean karaoke). The night got a little out of hand though, when one of the new teachers got a little to drunk and began to tell me how much he loved me. This was the same teacher who, earlier in the day, I had nearly kicked out of my class - he dropped his class off for English, then left the room to change into his sports wear. He came back wearing a track suit, and swinging a mop and bucket around, and proceeded to mop my classroom and tell the kids what to do while I taught. I thought he was the janitor, he looked so different. Anyway, I figured it all out, and everything was fine. So, back to the dinner.
At noraebong, the janitor teacher had me get up and sing a song. He chose "You Are My Sunshine" for me, which was actually a pretty good choice I think. He loved it, and he loved me, and he told me this a few more times. Finally, it's time to go home, and loving-me-janitor tells everyone I'm going to get a ride with him. No one tells me this of course, so I'm a little nervous when my bag is tossed out of the other teachers car and given to me. And so, we start to walk. No idea where, it sounds like he's driving me home, which he's in no condition to do, so I'm a little more nervous. We head left down an alley, it's a little scary, and I ask him where we're going (my Korean's coming along okay by now), and he says "this way". Another left. Then another left. And another. We've traveled in a full circle before he figures out which way to go. I tell him in Korean "Now I go home". He says in English, "Ah, yes, Chicken". Uhhhh, "Wait a minute, where is this? Where am I going?" I say. "Hmmm, Chicken" We go on like this for a few minutes, we backtrack a bit, then suddenly he gets a big grin and takes us to this little chicken shack so we can sit down, drink beer and eat chicken.
I spent the next hour sitting with him and other random Korean's we met, drinking beer, eating chicken (not much, I really want to keep up my vegetarian self, but peer pressure takes on a new meaning in this country), and trying to speak Korean since no one spoke English. By the time I got home, I was a little exhausted, a little drunk, and smelled like all the bizarre ethnic foods you could find in the country. My co-teacher was at the point where it was easier for me to tell the cab driver how to get home than it was for him. Anyway, I think that's the last time I'm going out with him, but it was kind of fun to get really local at least once.
Thanks for reading, I'll have another entry in here next week.
Rich
It's suddenly cold here again this week, which is nothing compared to what it's like in Canada, but after a week of +15, it was a little shocking to find snow and ice on the ground the last few days. And before that, we had a long, intense rain storm. It rained so much, our roof overflowed into the stairwell, and a small river of water was pouring down 5 flights of stairs to the bottom floor. It was kinda cool, but the Koreans seemed a little nervous, and went on full attack with their mops and buckets. Us Canadians of course, well that seemed like a great day to play hockey, and so we did. We just finished building a new net out of PVC piping and the mesh from a discarded mattress box-spring, so nothing was going to stop us from trying it out.
Speaking of sports, the new volleyball season is underway at school again. It's tough calling it a season, cause nothing really happens to advance the state of our game or standings, etc. But, you can't miss a game, and so twice this week we've played. It's not really that bad, I don't despise volleyball like I did in high school, but there is this new teacher in the school who makes me want to put socks in my ears, or maybe his mouth. Every single point, no matter what happens, he's giving someone tips on what to do, and since I'm in the "hitting position" (someone please correct me and tell me what that spot is called) he's always, ALWAYS, telling me to do something different. It's too bad, that A) the guy is a terrible volleyball player, and B) doesn't speak a lick of English. The one way he can communicate, is by giving high-fives. Which, oh my, is more of a challenge than playing volleyball will ever be.
Giving my co-teachers a high-five is like something between french-kissing an oyster, and crawling through a prickle patch. Usually, high-fives are down around chest height, so it's awkward to begin with. Then, instead of using your hand to try and make contact, creating that "Right on!" kinda feeling, everyone just kind of walks into it, usually doing a bit of a bend at the hips. If you're scratching your head asking yourself how the hell that works, don't worry about it, cause it doesn't work. But it gets worse. Some teachers, usually the short men, will try and go down low, but they never hold their hands out. Instead they keep their elbows in, and hands only half-supinated so that any attempt to give a low-five is more of a hand smacking. And every single time you try to give a gentle, not hard but making contact kind of -five, they grab your hands, interlock fingers, and just shake your hands weirdly for a second. Oh my, it is bizarre.
Quick interlude - Shannon, who was just in China got some good photos while she was there. I missed out on it all, but I really like this shot of the great wall. Here's the section of it that she walked.
On another brief subject, I've found that one of my teachers looks incredibly like a bobble-head. Korean's generally have, well, larger than average heads. Or at least, larger-than-a-aNorth-American-head heads. This one teacher, I Uen Chin, is a rather petite lady, and so her behemoth cranium becomes almost comical on her. At times it looks like it's weighing her down into a bit of a slouch, and I'm afraid that if someone were to ever pick her up and shake her even gently, her head would wobble around uncontrollably. It seems most schools in Korea have a teacher who gives off a bobble-head vibe, as I've had this conversation now with a number of North Americans here, and we all seem to notice it.
My school had a "welcome back" dinner the other night, and like all dinners with my school, it was a generally good time, filled with food I refused to eat, soju they wanted me to drink, and noraebong (Korean karaoke). The night got a little out of hand though, when one of the new teachers got a little to drunk and began to tell me how much he loved me. This was the same teacher who, earlier in the day, I had nearly kicked out of my class - he dropped his class off for English, then left the room to change into his sports wear. He came back wearing a track suit, and swinging a mop and bucket around, and proceeded to mop my classroom and tell the kids what to do while I taught. I thought he was the janitor, he looked so different. Anyway, I figured it all out, and everything was fine. So, back to the dinner.
At noraebong, the janitor teacher had me get up and sing a song. He chose "You Are My Sunshine" for me, which was actually a pretty good choice I think. He loved it, and he loved me, and he told me this a few more times. Finally, it's time to go home, and loving-me-janitor tells everyone I'm going to get a ride with him. No one tells me this of course, so I'm a little nervous when my bag is tossed out of the other teachers car and given to me. And so, we start to walk. No idea where, it sounds like he's driving me home, which he's in no condition to do, so I'm a little more nervous. We head left down an alley, it's a little scary, and I ask him where we're going (my Korean's coming along okay by now), and he says "this way". Another left. Then another left. And another. We've traveled in a full circle before he figures out which way to go. I tell him in Korean "Now I go home". He says in English, "Ah, yes, Chicken". Uhhhh, "Wait a minute, where is this? Where am I going?" I say. "Hmmm, Chicken" We go on like this for a few minutes, we backtrack a bit, then suddenly he gets a big grin and takes us to this little chicken shack so we can sit down, drink beer and eat chicken.
I spent the next hour sitting with him and other random Korean's we met, drinking beer, eating chicken (not much, I really want to keep up my vegetarian self, but peer pressure takes on a new meaning in this country), and trying to speak Korean since no one spoke English. By the time I got home, I was a little exhausted, a little drunk, and smelled like all the bizarre ethnic foods you could find in the country. My co-teacher was at the point where it was easier for me to tell the cab driver how to get home than it was for him. Anyway, I think that's the last time I'm going out with him, but it was kind of fun to get really local at least once.
Thanks for reading, I'll have another entry in here next week.
Rich
Friday, March 02, 2007
Traditional Traditions
I suppose the word "customs" might be more appropriate, but either way, 6 months into living in Korea, there are still many things happening here that are a little beyond my comprehension. I'm getting used to the everyday things - people driving on sidewalks, red lights being more of a suggestion than a rule, drinking soju while still at school, and eating rice and cold cabbage for breakfast. However graduation week has been pretty funny, and a little surprising.
For my school, grades 1-6, graduation wasn't really that big a deal. Well, I guess it was to the kids, as the grade 6's had their own special ceremony, they did all their "get ready for middle school" stuff, and basically got to avoid learning anything for the last week of school. For the middle school kids going to high school, it was like a hazing ritual put on by the schools. After the big good-bye assembly, all the kids walk outside, and everyone throws raw eggs and flour on them. And they do this at every school. Walking around town that afternoon, there were dozens of kids covered in flour and eggs, splatterings of the stuff all over the road, and everyone but us foreigners seemed to hardly notice it (though some of the kids covered in gunk looked a little unhumoured).
Today we had our beginning of the year ceremony, which was nice and short, and another chance for me to get in front of all the kids and their parents and have them all laugh at my funny voice. All the new teachers (and of course, me, the English teacher) got to get up in front of everyone and say a quick hello and nice-to-meet-you, then the principal said a few more words, and the year was ready to begin. To celebrate and signify the start of the new year, all the new grade 6 students put a necklace on all the new grade 1 students, then put them (the grade 1's) on their backs, and ran around the gym a few times. Oh, I nearly fell out of my chair it was so funny! Korean's aren't very tall, and so some of these grade 6's were hardly bigger than the grade 1's, and the struggles they had were incredible. A few gave up, others toughed it out. The one mentally handicap kid, who's rather big, hardly seemed to notice the kid dangling from the back of his shirt as he trudged around the gym mumbling to himself. I guess I laughed a little hard, cause the teacher next to me started asking me what we do at our schools to bring in the new year.
Going back a few steps, I should mention again my speech to the school. As I've mentioned before, being a foreigner in Korea is a big deal - for many people, seeing me is the first time they've seen any one who's not Korean. For the kids, the novelty is still pretty huge (I'm the second foreign teacher here), and they really seem to love an adult who will play with them and interact with them as much as possible (with Korean adults, respect is very important, so goofing around is pretty uncommon). Anyway, I'm dragging this out here. What happened was, I went up to say hello to everyone, the whole "Hi my name is Richard and I like being here, thank you" routine. One of the kids in the front waved to me, so I waved back, so a few waved to me, so again I waved back. Then the whole front section waved to me, one girl even jumped out to the front and was grabbed by a teacher, as she tried to wave to me. Silly me, I wave back to them. Then the whole school starts waving to me, some now shouting "Hello!" and jumping up and down. I'm sure there's a really bad joke about how to get a one armed Korean down from a tree in here. Anyway, I finally managed to stop all this waving by saying "Hello" in Korean into the micropohone, which got every student and parent giggling, but no longer waving.
Much of the behaviour seen in Korea (as in every country I'm sure) can be attributed to the country's history and the people they look up to from the past. This is on a bit of a tangent here, and has nothing to do with graduations and hand waving, but since I was recently viewing a great deal of Korean historical sights, I thought this one story might help explain a lot of the unusual things encountered here.
1400 years ago, Kim Yu-Shin was on his way to becoming General of the Shilla realm of Korea, and was on his way to reuniting the three separate parts of the country. On his way to becoming this great and honoured general, he had a few black eyes in his personal life that have become legends among the people in Korea. For instance, he was having an affair at one time with a dancer, who's name I forget. His mother, however, banned him from seeing this dancer any longer, and Kim Yu-Shin, like a good Korea, obeyed his mother with the strictest regiment. His horse, unfortunately, was not told of the change in Kim Yu-Shin's personal life, and a short while later, Kim Yu-Shin, as a good Korean at the time, got a little too drunk, and entrusted his horse to get him home. The horse, of course, took him to where it always did when Kim Yu-Shin got drunk, which was to the dancer's house. When Kim Yu-Shin realized where the horse had taken him (as he was oblivious to everything on the way, I guess), he immediately killed his horse.
The Korean's see this as a noble tale of a man who respected his mom, knew (or learned) right from wrong and showed an iron will. The painting made depicting it showed a fearsome Kim Yu-Shin standing proud over his dying horse, his mother beaming in the background. But me, I just see it as a guy who, drunk, got himself into a bit of trouble and his horse was the one who paid the price. Poor thing.
Anyway, that's all for this week. If I can ever find a picture of the horse thing, I'll have to put it up here, it's pretty intense. Thanks for the comments everyone! Steph, I'm glad I could remind you of your times in Japan - Korea seems to me a million light years from life in Japan, but the little things like naked sauna's, the random touching and staring, it definitely makes for some familiar feelings, eh.
For my school, grades 1-6, graduation wasn't really that big a deal. Well, I guess it was to the kids, as the grade 6's had their own special ceremony, they did all their "get ready for middle school" stuff, and basically got to avoid learning anything for the last week of school. For the middle school kids going to high school, it was like a hazing ritual put on by the schools. After the big good-bye assembly, all the kids walk outside, and everyone throws raw eggs and flour on them. And they do this at every school. Walking around town that afternoon, there were dozens of kids covered in flour and eggs, splatterings of the stuff all over the road, and everyone but us foreigners seemed to hardly notice it (though some of the kids covered in gunk looked a little unhumoured).
Today we had our beginning of the year ceremony, which was nice and short, and another chance for me to get in front of all the kids and their parents and have them all laugh at my funny voice. All the new teachers (and of course, me, the English teacher) got to get up in front of everyone and say a quick hello and nice-to-meet-you, then the principal said a few more words, and the year was ready to begin. To celebrate and signify the start of the new year, all the new grade 6 students put a necklace on all the new grade 1 students, then put them (the grade 1's) on their backs, and ran around the gym a few times. Oh, I nearly fell out of my chair it was so funny! Korean's aren't very tall, and so some of these grade 6's were hardly bigger than the grade 1's, and the struggles they had were incredible. A few gave up, others toughed it out. The one mentally handicap kid, who's rather big, hardly seemed to notice the kid dangling from the back of his shirt as he trudged around the gym mumbling to himself. I guess I laughed a little hard, cause the teacher next to me started asking me what we do at our schools to bring in the new year.
Going back a few steps, I should mention again my speech to the school. As I've mentioned before, being a foreigner in Korea is a big deal - for many people, seeing me is the first time they've seen any one who's not Korean. For the kids, the novelty is still pretty huge (I'm the second foreign teacher here), and they really seem to love an adult who will play with them and interact with them as much as possible (with Korean adults, respect is very important, so goofing around is pretty uncommon). Anyway, I'm dragging this out here. What happened was, I went up to say hello to everyone, the whole "Hi my name is Richard and I like being here, thank you" routine. One of the kids in the front waved to me, so I waved back, so a few waved to me, so again I waved back. Then the whole front section waved to me, one girl even jumped out to the front and was grabbed by a teacher, as she tried to wave to me. Silly me, I wave back to them. Then the whole school starts waving to me, some now shouting "Hello!" and jumping up and down. I'm sure there's a really bad joke about how to get a one armed Korean down from a tree in here. Anyway, I finally managed to stop all this waving by saying "Hello" in Korean into the micropohone, which got every student and parent giggling, but no longer waving.
Much of the behaviour seen in Korea (as in every country I'm sure) can be attributed to the country's history and the people they look up to from the past. This is on a bit of a tangent here, and has nothing to do with graduations and hand waving, but since I was recently viewing a great deal of Korean historical sights, I thought this one story might help explain a lot of the unusual things encountered here.
1400 years ago, Kim Yu-Shin was on his way to becoming General of the Shilla realm of Korea, and was on his way to reuniting the three separate parts of the country. On his way to becoming this great and honoured general, he had a few black eyes in his personal life that have become legends among the people in Korea. For instance, he was having an affair at one time with a dancer, who's name I forget. His mother, however, banned him from seeing this dancer any longer, and Kim Yu-Shin, like a good Korea, obeyed his mother with the strictest regiment. His horse, unfortunately, was not told of the change in Kim Yu-Shin's personal life, and a short while later, Kim Yu-Shin, as a good Korean at the time, got a little too drunk, and entrusted his horse to get him home. The horse, of course, took him to where it always did when Kim Yu-Shin got drunk, which was to the dancer's house. When Kim Yu-Shin realized where the horse had taken him (as he was oblivious to everything on the way, I guess), he immediately killed his horse.
The Korean's see this as a noble tale of a man who respected his mom, knew (or learned) right from wrong and showed an iron will. The painting made depicting it showed a fearsome Kim Yu-Shin standing proud over his dying horse, his mother beaming in the background. But me, I just see it as a guy who, drunk, got himself into a bit of trouble and his horse was the one who paid the price. Poor thing.
Anyway, that's all for this week. If I can ever find a picture of the horse thing, I'll have to put it up here, it's pretty intense. Thanks for the comments everyone! Steph, I'm glad I could remind you of your times in Japan - Korea seems to me a million light years from life in Japan, but the little things like naked sauna's, the random touching and staring, it definitely makes for some familiar feelings, eh.
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